Runaway
by QueenCheetah
Summary: AU- Being an orphan living on the city streets isn't easy; yet sometimes things are even darker than they appear... will one group of unfortunate teenagers be able to thwart a twisted murder plot? BxR, MxM Tendershipping
1. Chapter 1

"Hnn?" The scarlet-eyed teenager frowned. He thought he heard something...

 _ ***** **CRASH!*** _

"Hey, quit resistin', you little slut!"

'Oh, great.' The wild-haired deviant sighed. He'd been looking forward to a quiet evening of pickpocketing pedestrians, but apparently fate had other plans... muttering under his breath, Bakura Touzokou headed towards the disturbing sounds.

'Sounds like some kid's being tortured in a back-alley by the local scumbags.'

There were more sounds of clashing and yelling, and the street punk easily found the group in question.

Five men, roughly in the their late teens, were harassing a terrified young girl. Her long, light hair waved wildly as she fought. She was struggling as hard as she could; but with four different degenerates holding her limbs, she could scarcely move.

Bakura frowned as he strode into the dank city alleyway. The pale-skinned miss gave off a faint whimper. She clearly wanted no part in their advances.

"And what's going on here?" The crimson-eyed man glared at the surrounding creeps. "Oh, _Hanagawa_." He snorted disdainfully at the square-jawed ringleader. "Of course. Only you would be so desperate for a date. Finally found a girl who didn't puke the moment she saw your face?"

The large man snarled at the uninvited guest, showing off several golden teeth. "Mind your own business, Bakura! This don't involve you!"

"Oh, I'm afraid 'it do', my grammatically inept friend." The irritated teen cracked his knuckles in preparation for a fight. "So, which of you b*stards wants to get curb-stomped by the great Bakura?"

Two of the brutish underlings stepped forward. There was a moment's pause, then the fists started flying. Bakura was smaller than the steroid-infused thugs, true; but he was faster, and a more talented fighter. He grinned down at the two idiots now lying dazed on the pavement.

"Fools." He leered at the larger man. "Well?"

Hanagawa looked uncertain about taking on the crazed combatant by himself. His two remaining fighters were busy holding onto their victim. But they were distracted by their boss's wavering. One of the flunkies suddenly screamed- the girl had managed to bite down into his forearm- _hard_. She wriggled out of his grasp, and managed a nice kick to the other kidnapper's groin.

"Sh*t!" Sensing defeat, the gutless gang-leader fled, leaving his bleeding comrades to chase after him.

"Pfth. Dumb*sses." Bakura watched as the cretins finally left. "Hey." He glanced at the girl. She turned her face to her hero. "You alright?"

The pale girl was clearly shaken, but she nodded tentatively.

"Good- now get out of here. This isn't a place for little kids."

The girl only blinked. Bakura noticed that she was rather bedraggled looking- and not just from the fight. She was wearing a worn blue shirt, along with ripped jeans and old sneakers.

"I just said this place is bad- go home."

She looked downwards and bit her lip. Her messy white hair fell over her face, hiding her expression.

"You don't have one."

The girl shook her head from side to side in despair.

"Ah." He frowned and pointed to his left. "There's a shelter three blocks down that way- they take in the 'strays' who aren't in foster care or- _HEY_!"

The mysterious girl suddenly took off running. She was quite fast.

Bakura ran after the terrified teen.

"Hey! Stop! I'm not gonna _force_ you to go! I just thought you should know! Damn, woman; calm down!"

Panting heavily, he managed to get in front of the fleeing female. "Easy! I'm not looking to hurt you! I'm only warning you!" He held out his arms in a pacifying gesture. "Hanagawa isn't the only b*stard who hangs out around here after dark! You shouldn't be out here on your own!"

The halted newcomer paused uneasily. True, this man had stopped those filthy perverts... but could he really be trusted?

The girl seemed to be weighing her options, so the tired punk laid everything out. "Look, I have a place where I stay with some of my friends. It's not exactly a palace, but it's safe, and it's not far. You can crash there until morning at least- and if you don't like it, you can leave, alright? I'm not gonna keep you there."

Two hickory-toned eyes blinked in confusion- not many strangers were so openly generous. What was this guy's angle?

Still wary, the girl gave a single nod before following after the exhausted brawler. He led her down a few dark streets, guiding her with words only. She didn't make a sound as they marched down the dull urban streets. Eventually they reached an abandoned construction site- it was mostly just a skeleton of a giant building. No doubt meant to be a large business complex, the project had likely fallen through after the last economic crisis.

"It's not much, but it's home." Bakura explained bluntly. He guided the quiet girl up a rough, concrete staircase. In the middle of the unfinished floor lay a rough set of plywood walls- clearly some sort of temporary construction manager's office. There were various plastic tarps draped over the plywood walls, helping to keep the 'refuge' dry and standing.

The newcomer stared at the unusual setup, but jumped when a blonde head suddenly poked through the main door frame.

"Hey Bakura, what took you so long?!"

"Ran into a situation." He pointed at the still-nervous girl. She seemed to have been startled by the blonde's appearance, and she took a few steps backwards.

"Eh? Oh!" The tanned blonde suddenly turned and spoke to someone behind him. "Hey, Marik! We got company!"

A second head suddenly joined the first- this man looked even more dangerous. He was also blonde and dark-skinned, but more muscular and wild looking.

The second guy stared at the quiet newcomer. "Eh? Who's that?"

The taller of the pale duo pointed at the girl. "No clue. She doesn't talk."

"' _She?_ '" Malik frowned. "Bakura, that's a guy."

"What?!" The pale degenerate blinked before turning towards the other teen. "Hanagawa said that she was a girl!"

Malik snorted. "Hanagawa barely has the brain of a flea." The shorter blonde yelled bluntly towards the newcomer: "Hey, are you a guy or a girl?!"

The runaway hesitantly held up one finger.

"One?" Bakura raised an eyebrow in disbelief. " _Yes,_ that's what we're _asking_ : which one?"

"No, dumb*ss; he means he's the 'first one' I said." Malik folded his arms. "A guy." Marik nodded in agreement with his boyfriend.

"Wait- so, you're not a chick?!" Bakura sounded astonished.

The (now confirmed) boy nodded shyly.

"His hair is probably just really long 'cuz he's been on the streets for a while. C'mere and I'll give you a trim." The younger blonde motioned towards a cracked mirror hanging from an old nail.

The stranger hesitantly stepped over to the concrete pillar with the mirror. His anxiety grew when Malik brought out a pair of scissors; but he relaxed (somewhat) once the loud teen started elaborating.

"Don't you worry about a thing- I cut everyone's hair! Hell, Bakura there-" the tanned teen pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "-looks like a road-killed poodle after three months!" Bakura flipped Malik the bird, but the hairdresser didn't notice. "So, how much do you want off?"

The unnamed teen took some of his own hair into one hand and pointed to a very small amount.

"Really? Only that much?" The blonde blinked. "That's still pretty long- you might get mistaken for a girl again."

"Oh yes, because _you're_ one to talk." Bakura snorted.

" _Hey!"_

The mute boy remained politely still as the amateur barber began his work. For several minutes there were no sounds, save the gentle clipping of the scissors.

Malik finally attempted to make some small talk as he snipped away at the light-colored locks.

"So, what's your name?"

"..."

"You're not much for conversation, huh?"

"..."

"That's ok- Bakura the Grouch over there doesn't talk much either. I mean, he says _some_ stuff; but he's a total *ss when he does, so we just ignore him." Malik hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm, so I guess that means you're still a better communicator than he is."

A very faint smile drifted over the 'salon' customer's face.

"Hey, I saw that!" Malik grinned triumphantly. "I got you to smile! See, Bakura- I _am_ funny! Even- um... even... he thinks so!"

"A name would be helpful." Marik pointed out mildly.

Malik soon finished the trimming, and put away the old scissors.

Running his fingers through his (somewhat shorter) hair, the new boy decided to trust them a little more. He stepped away from the mirror and knelt down. There was a shallow divot in the concrete where some rainwater had gathered. He dipped one finger into the divot, and began using the water to draw a symbol on the floor.

The three street punks stared curiously at the character.

The tallest of the trio frowned. "What does it say?"

The newcomer blinked in surprise- the character was very basic. Did the larger blonde not know how to read Japanese?

Bakura studied the dewy symbol. "It says 'Ryou'."

"Like the river?" Marik began clapping his hands excitedly. "Ooo! I know! That can be his nickname! Then he'll be just like us!"

"The hell are you talking about? We don't even _have_ nicknames!" The stranger savior protested irritably.

"Of course we do!" Marik pointed to everyone in turn. "Malik-honey, The Grouch, River, and I'm the Bronze Sex-bomb!"

"What the- why the hell am I 'The Grouch?!'" The aggravated Bakura snapped. But the others ignored him.

"Hmm, but that name sounds familiar, for some reason..." Malik put a hand to his chin as he looked thoughtfully towards the newcomer.

The white-haired boy tensed in horror- _if he was recognized_... but mercifully, the blonde lost his train of thought when his look-alike started arguing with Bakura (again).

 _'Whew... thank heavens...'_ The weary newcomer stifled a yawn. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion, and his vision was growing somewhat blurry.

"Questions can wait until morning- for now, I'm betting we could all do with some sleep." Bakura pointedly remarked.

The newcomer nodded in grateful agreement. He was past fatigued, and having a safe place to sleep sounded _wonderful_. The group slowly filed inside the small plywood 'base.'

The concrete 'floor' of the make-shift office was mostly covered in old rugs, topped by several old mattresses covered in worn blankets and a few under-stuffed pillows.

"Here." Bakura pointed towards one end of the structure. "You can have the far right corner- it's free."

'Ryou' nodded in acceptance, and gave a half-bow of gratitude. He wasn't expecting the loud exclamation from the first blonde ('Malik', apparently).

" _Ha!_ Keepin' it classy, even in this company- I think I like this new guy!"

The surprised visitor felt his face flush slightly- he'd forgotten that his manners were likely to surprise the average youth.

His savior, however, could care less about Malik's commentary. Bakura scowled as he threw himself down onto a full mattress. "Keep it down, you moron! I had to knock down two of Hanagawa's thugs just to get them to lay off him!"

"Oh big whoop- that's like saying you stole candy from a toddler!" Malik stuck out his tongue as he laid down next to the other bronzed teen. Ryou was rather surprised when he saw that the blondes were now cuddled up under the same blanket- either their were very close siblings, or else...

As the other three bickered, Ryou managed to curl up on a worn twin mattress in the unused corner. He was able to wrap a ripped, dark blue comforter around him for warmth. He placed one pale arm under his head and felt the uneven bumps of the old box springs. Evidently everything the group had was obtained through dumpster diving, but right now the exhausted boy barely cared. Ryou let out a yawn as he reflected on the strange set-up. They were an odd group, perhaps a little rough; but at least they were honorable.

With a final sigh, the fatigued teen decided he could trust them... for now. His breathing slowed to a steady pace as he surrendered himself to the land of dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Bakura Touzokou was awakened by the sound of rustling blankets. His senses returned to him just in time to see the newcomer ('Ryou,' if his tired brain was recalling correctly) leaving the plywood 'shelter' he and his friends had claimed.

Two blood-toned eyes narrowed with distrust. 'And just where does he think he's going at this hour?' Bakura already felt suspicious of the quiet vagrant. He couldn't place it, but something seemed vaguely familiar about the other white-haired teen...

The exhausted street punk scowled as he got up. Yes, some stray thought was stirring in the back of his mind; possibly something important... but whatever it was, it kept slipping out of his grasp.

'Better follow the little fool- no telling what he's up to...' Ignoring the two blondes (who were still snoring beneath their shared blanket), Bakura began stealthily stalking the mute runaway.

'Where on Earth...?' The baffled Samaritan watched as Ryou took an unusual route to an even stranger destination. After they'd alley-hopped a few blocks East, the boy suddenly slipped through an old, wooden fence's gate and crouched down behind an industrial-sized dumpster.

'Is he waiting for something-?' The dumpster had the logo of a popular fast-food chain emblazoned on one side. Apparently the colorful, single-story building just ahead of Ryou was a 'Better Burger' restaurant. It wasn't immediately recognizable, as they were facing the back side of the building.

Their food wasn't the worst, but Bakura certainly wouldn't think it worth dumpster diving. Yet evidently that wasn't Ryou's plan. The pale boy waited calmly behind the metallic container, evidently looking for some sort of signal.

Bakura watched the bizarre scene through a large knothole in the old fence. His attention was soon drawn to the single, back door on the brick building. It opened with an irritating squeak, and a lanky blonde guy around his and Ryou's own age came out, carrying a load of trash. Bakura nearly jumped into the air when a rough voice began bellowing loudly after the tall teen.

"And make sure you close that dumpster lid **tight** this time! I can't afford to find another fry cook!"

"Oh, so it's _ **my**_ fault tha' squirrel got in there? Sheesh." The blonde muttered sullenly to himself. There was a sound from behind the dumpster, and the young employee took a step back.

"Eh? Who's there?"

"..." No words were spoken, but evidently the restaurant worker recognized the pale figure now standing upright beside the dumpster.

" _Ryou!_ " The lanky employee looked relieved, and he let out a laugh. "Hey man, good to see ya again! How are ya?!" The tall blonde then gave Ryou a bone-crushing hug. The fair-skinned teen smiled widely and returned the gesture (albeit much more gently).

'Hmm... seems they're allies...' Bakura continued peering through the wooden opening as the pair exchanged greetings.

"You doin' ok out there? Ya havin' any trouble? 'Cuz you know the Jou-man doesn't let nobody hurt his friends!" The 'Jou-man' cracked his knuckles and made two fists.

The lighter-toned boy placed his hands on the loudmouth's fists, as if to reassure him that wasn't necessary.

The amber-eyed blonde looked uncertain, but gave in. "Awright, but if anyone messes with ya, just let me an' Honda know- we ain't forgotten our skills. There was a reason we were top Dominoes!"

'The 'Dominoes'?' Bakura frowned in recognition. 'Wasn't that Hirutani's old gang?'

"Ah! I almost forgot- hang on-" The 'Jou-man' turned and ducked back inside the back door. From the sounds of it, he'd begun rifling through something inside the building, just out of Bakura's line of sight. A minute later the blonde reappeared, triumphantly holding a large bag marked with the restaurant's logo. "Got it!" He grinned as he showed it to Ryou. "I just finished re-heating 'em- these all are the mixed-up orders from the late shift last night. This stuff's supposed to go in the dumpster, so the boss won't care if ya take it. So, whadya feel like havin' for breakfast?"

Ryou held up three fingers. The blonde tilted his head in bewilderment.

"Er, you want the #3 combo? 'Cuz I don't think that's in here..." He looked curiously into the bag.

But the pale boy shook his head and held up a finger on each hand. He put them together to form a cross.

"Eh?" The fast-food server was baffled. "Um, you wanna... '3 x' combo?"

Ryou shook his head again. He held up the 'cross' sign, and then the three fingers.

"Plus... plus three?"

The shorter teen nodded. He pointed to the food, then at himself, and then held up the three fingers.

"Plus three... three _people_?"

Another nod.

"Whoa, you made _friends_ out there?!" Jou sounded impressed, but his tone soon turned cautionary. "Hey, be careful, man- they ain't all saints like you."

The spying teen snorted quietly to himself. 'Understatement of the century.'

Ryou simply shrugged and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. Bakura couldn't tell what was on it; only that it appeared to be a hand-written note.

"Geez, this is a long list- you sure about all this?"

The mute teen nodded before handing something else over to the employee-

Bakura nearly choked in shock.

 _It was a hundred dollar bill!_

"Awright, but this time I'm givin' you _**all**_ a' your change back, got it? No arguin'!"

Ryou frowned, clearly displeased. But the taller man just folded his arms in stubborn insistence.

"Hey, I don't forget my debts- you don' owe me _nothin'_. All I want is to see ya at the same time tomorrow, safe an' sound. Deal?"

The boy seemed to silently chuckle before nodding in agreement.

"Awright, you take care of yourself then!" The blonde ruffled the white hair on top of the shorter boy's head.

Ryou grinned and nodded gratefully. He took the oversized bag of food and walked back towards fence's gate.

Bakura frowned as he waited in the shadows for the new youth to leave. Evidently things were even more complicated than he'd thought.

And when it came to surviving on the streets, 'complicated' was generally a bad thing.

Bakura knew the backstreets well, and he easily beat Ryou back to their 'hideout.' The boy wordlessly gave the food to Marik and Bakura, but apparently Malik was out. Marik mentioned that he was looking at a car that was abandoned the other day, but Ryou didn't seem to understand why.

The three vagrants devoured their fast food in relative silence- Bakura was hardly a morning person, and with Malik gone Marik didn't feel like trying to play charades with their newest companion.

They were just finishing up their respective meals (Marik had to keep smacking Bakura's hands away from Malik's fries) when they heard a familiar voice calling from the other end of the building.

"Hey, Bakura! You'll never guess what I saw!"

To Marik's shock, _both_ of the white-haired boys turned around- which turned out to be a very big mistake.

Bakura and Malik watched in surprise as Ryou seemed to freeze in mortification. He instantly turned his head back towards his meal, as though to feign stillness. But it was too late.

"Wait- that's it! I know who you are!" Malik pointed at the mystery vagabond. "You're _Ryou Bakura_!"

The mute teen's eyes widened in horror. He felt his thin body start to tremble as he studied the other two runaways' reactions.

"He has the same name as The Grouch?"

"Why is his name the same as mine?"

Malik shook his head, his golden locks flying back and forth. "No, no, no- 'Bakura' is his _last_ name! He's the heir to the DesCorp fortune! Y'know, that giant computer company?!"

The silent boy slowly shrank backwards, trying to move away from the others without being noticed.

"Wait, you're a damned millionaire?!" Bakura turned to give the other fair-faced teen an incredulous look. ' _That explains the cash..._ ' The white-haired deviant's attitude instantly turned sour, and he began speaking in a mocking manner. "So, _what_ ; you just thought you'd try living like a sewer rat for a year? Or are you one of those stuck-up prats who got tired of 'mummy and daddy's rules' and ran away to get them ticked?"

Ryou shook his head 'no' as his panic rapidly increased. All three of the other teens were watching him intently. _'_ _Oh no... t_ _his can't_ _be_ _happen_ _ing..._ _please,_ _not_ _this_ _-_ _'_ The trembling boy nearly screamed when he felt a strong hand clasp him on his shoulder.

Marik's eyes were kind, but his massive, foreign frame was still intimidating as he spoke. "Do you need help? We can get ahold of someone if you want- someone from the company?"

Two soft, brown eyes widened to the size of saucers. That was possibly the most horrifying response to Ryou's problem.

There was a moment of eerie stillness, then it was suddenly broken by a swift blur of blue and white. The only sound was the erratic slapping of worn sneakers hitting the concrete at a desperate pace.

He ran. He ran and ran and ran, but he was never fast enough. He had never been fast enough.

His breathing was already starting to sound ragged.

He'd always been physically weak.

"Ryou! Hey! Wait up!"

One of the others was calling for him.

He wanted to stop, wanted to go back. They had seemed really nice...

No.

Nonononono.

They were homeless. Nice or not, they _needed_ the money.

They would bring him in for the reward.

The teen gasped as he tried to fill his burning lungs.

They would bring him in... and then he would be helpless to stop his own murder.

" _AH!"_ The fair-haired runaway gasped in horror. He had been so blinded by his panic that he hadn't noticed where he was going.

And now he was practically falling over an unfinished ledge on the abandoned structure.

For one horrible moment, Ryou teetered on the blunt edge of the concrete, staring at the distant ground.

His eyes soon adjusted, and he managed to step away from the ledge.

"Ryou!"

Crap. The other teens had caught up. And now they were surrounding him. Ryou had no escape.

Except...

He glanced back at the drop.

He didn't want to die. And he didn't want to jump.

But he would never, _ever_ let that-monsterhave the satisfaction of murdering him and stealing his mother's dream.

"Ryou, _**stop**_! Don't!"

He vaguely recognized Malik's voice- and, to be fair; he really did sound upset. But Ryou had recently learned a brutal lesson about people who 'sounded upset.' Especially when large amounts of money were involved.

As in,millions.

The pale boy was growing lightheaded. His body was shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline. He knew he was about to pass out, and he wasn't sure which way he was hoping to fall.

"Ryou!"

He glanced down at the distant sidewalk.

"Ryou, _please_! _Don't_!"

He didn't want to die- he didn't want to die- he really didn't-

" **Ryou."**

A new voice called out- it was firmer and rougher. The desperate adolescent listened as it went on.

"Ryou." The voice repeated. "Stop. Whatever's wrong, you need to step back. Whatever's going on, we're going to help you- whether you like it or not. You don't have a choice."

 _Bakura._

Ryou blinked as he let the brash yet supportive words sink in. The other man had saved him that night... in all likelihood, saved _his life_. He shuddered as he remembered how he'd felt just before Bakura had shown up... he owed him a great deal. Ryou sighed as he decided to trust him with his life for a second time.

The exhausted teen sank to his knees. He was still dangerously close to the edge, but he felt a cluster of warm hands pulling him back to the safety of the inner level. He felt someone carefully picking him and carrying him- and then he remembered nothing further.


	3. Chapter 3

Many hours later, the sun was past rising, and a thin pile of blankets shifted quietly.

"Ryou."

"Mnmm." The blankets shifted again.

The light voice called out again, almost teasingly. "Ryyyy~ou."

"Nnnn..." Two cocoa-colored eyes opened half-way. Ryou could barely make out the form looking down at him. But he could see white hair and pale skin. "Nngh... mum?" He mumbled sleepily. "Izzat you?"

But the semi-conscious boy nearly hit the roof when a loud cackle sounded from just behind his head.

" _HA!_ See, he mistook you for a womantoo, Mr. Grouch!"

Ryou let out a confused groan as he sat up. There were some rather old blankets covering his lap, and he'd apparently slept in his clothes. But why-?

He could hear someone bickering in the background as his thoughts slowly re-formed into a single, cohesive path.

'That's right...' He felt his jaw tense as the memories returned. The terrible events of the last few weeks suddenly struck him. Ryou shook his head, almost as if to clear away the waking nightmares. He just wanted to slip back into the blissful oblivion of sleep.

"Hey, Ryou! You awake?!"

Alas, no such luck.

The exhausted teen raised his head and mumbled a reply. "Yeh... where'm I?"

There was a pause before the same voice yelled in excitement. "I knew it! You _can_ talk!"

 _'Oh,_ _sprinkles_ _.'_ Ryou nearly facepalmed; he had forgotten the final part of his recent memories. He had avoided speaking as much as possible lately. It helped to conceal his identity, while also serving as a coping mechanism. The no-longer mute teen blinked and stared nervously into a pair of vivid, lavender eyes.

Malik watched excitedly as the other youth regained his senses. "So, you can talk?!"

Ryou gulped uneasily. "Um, yes..." He looked downwards in discomfort. "I... just haven't talked much the past three months." Indeed, his voice sounded rough from disuse. He even coughed a bit as he spoke. "...only a little with my friends."

"So you're _really_ pissed off at your parents?" Bakura speculated bluntly.

The younger boy shook his head and responded quietly. "Not at all. They've both passed on."

There was an awkward pause as Bakura muttered an apology, while the two blondes glared at him. Ryou didn't say anything further; he seemed to be reflecting on something else.

Malik eventually broke the silence, his tone a little more subdued. "So, what happened? Didn't you inherit everything? It was all over the news."

Ryou gave a very painful smile. "Well, yes; I did inherit their estate- and that's the problem."

The other three runaways stared in disbelief.

"...what?"

He'd already trusted them enough... the DesCorp heir sighed as he threw all caution to the wind and began narrating his story.

"My mum and dad were wonderful... I was never mad at them..." Malik gave Bakura a quick smack to the back of his head as Ryou went on, "-and we were very happy. But when I was growing up, we were actually kinda poor- I mean, we never went hungry or anything; but we had problems. Even as a little kid, I could tell..."

The boy paused for a second but as he spoke his eyes began to light up.

"Then, one day, my father made a discovery in the computer codes he wrote for his employer. He found a way to strengthen the company's internal digital security systems. So he branched out and started his own electronic security service- with the best protection in the business." There was a hint of pride in the modest youth's tone. "The company was very successful, and in time we became multimillionaires."

The other three waited for him to continue speaking. Ryou's voice hitched slightly as he went on.

"But, my father had heart problems- he'd always had them- and he passed away suddenly. So it was just my mother and I for the past few years... until she was in a car accident last spring."

He lowered his head, his soft, hickory-brown eyes watering. Malik frowned and gently patted the smaller boy's back.

Ryou gave a weak smile. "Thank you."

Bakura cleared his throat. "So, what's the problem?"

Ryou shuddered visibly. He felt his stomach churn as he muttered the truth. "My uncle."

Marik tilted his head in bewilderment. "Your uncle?"

The recent orphan nodded. "He'd a horrible, greedy man. He wants the money I'll inherit when I turn 18. It's mostly in a special trust fund; I can't access it until then." He frowned in despair. "I told him I would give him half of the assets as soon as I could... but he grew tired of waiting, and decided to do the only thing that would make him the main heir."

"Murdering you." The two bronzed boys once again gave Bakura a nasty glare, but he ignored them.

Ryou nodded in grim confirmation. "If I die, he gets the entire fortune- and he's been using his part of the inheritance to hire people to help him get the rest."

"His 'part'?"

The narrating teen nodded. "My mother already left him some money, naturally- he _was_ her brother, after all." His face twisted in repulsion. "But he wants more. He's a volatile addict; and he wants _ **all**_ of my parent's fortune to fuel his filthy habits."

Marik paused. "Wow- so if you stay alive until you're 18, you'll be rich?!"

The pale boy laughed. "Not exactly. I originally planned to give away most of the wealth."

The two bronzed teens just stared blankly. Only Bakura voiced his thoughts aloud.

"...are you f**king stupid?"

Malik started to growl. "Hey! Don't insult my Marik-sexy!"

"I was referring to _Mother Teresa_ over here!" Bakura threw out his hands in astonishment. " _Why_ would you give away all that cash?!"

Ryou actually seemed to pout a little at Bakura's criticism. "I wasn't going to just put it in a dumpster, you know! I was going to fulfill my mother's dream!"

Marik seemed interested. "Her 'dream'?"

Ryou nodded, his eyes glistening as he gave a bittersweet smile. "Yes... it was my mother's deepest dream to set up a charity fund for underprivileged kids." He hugged his knees to his chest as he spoke. "She had a rough childhood- she wouldn't talk about it much, but I think that's why her brother turned into... _that_." Ryou shook his head. "She wanted to try and make it so that hopefully, someday; no child would have such a harsh start in life."

"Preaching to the choir, here." Bakura commented dryly.

Malik tilted his head. "So, how old are you now?"

The newest boy's shoulders slumped. "...16 and a half."

"You're screwed." Again, both the blondes glared daggers at their old friend. Bakura openly shrugged. "What? How the hell's he going to outrun that b*stard for nearly two more years?"

"I can't." Ryou's eyes were starting to water again. "My friends all offered to help hide me, but he stole my phone and paid someone to gather their contact information. So he has all their addresses. Besides..." A single tear ran down his pale cheek. "...I don't want them to get hurt."

Now it was Marik's turn to look confused. "But, why not go to the police?"

The newcomer gave a surprisingly sarcastic snort. "Oh yes- the depressed, teenaged child of a recently deceased millionaire has fantasies that his uncle is going to murder him in cold blood for his money. Money that he _already_ has a fair slice of. Not to mention that he's probably paid off half the force- remember when I said he was hiring people to help?"

"...yeah, you're totally screwed." Malik nodded solemnly.

Ryou sighed yet again. "That seems to be the general consensus."

Another moment of silence settled over the group, before Bakura cleared his throat again. "So who was that loud, blonde string-bean you were talking to earlier?"

Ryou's eyes widened and he looked scandalized as he chastised his unofficial guardian. "You were _spying_ on me?!"

The other white-haired youth snorted and sternly folded his arms. "Hey, this isn't the fairytale life here- how are we supposed to know if we can trust you if you aren't honest with us?"

The quieter teen gave a wry smile. "Fair enough. The guy you saw me talking to is Jounouchi Katsuya. He's an old friend of mine. We went to the same schools together... he's very loyal and kind- but he's also a bit, erm, scatterbrained? If that's the word..."

Bakura rolled his eyes at the term 'scatterbrained.' "He seemed more like a doofus to me."

The newcomer glared in sudden harshness as he retorted. " _He's not a 'doofus'!_ He's been working really hard to turn his life around! Jou only recently got out of the city's largest middle-school gang!"

Marik's jaw nearly dropped as he deciphered this insinuation. "Wait- you mean he was in the _Dominoes_?!"

Ryou nodded soberly. "Yeah, a while back he was their second in command."

Malik seemed the most stunned by this admission. "Whoa- they were nasty. I'm surprised he got out alive."

The hickory-eyed teen only shrugged. "He doesn't like to talk much about 'those days;' so I don't know the whole story. All I know is that he somehow found a safe way to leave."

"Weird..." Marik muttered, his thoughts clearly focused on the strange tale.

Yet the taller of the pale pair didn't seem terribly fazed. "So he's been, what, laundering all your money for you?"

"Well, it's not 'laundering, per se; but he had been running errands and favors for me, yes."

"And you only have hundred-dollar bills because...?" Bakura prompted skeptically.

The previous-millionaire swallowed nervously. "It's all I could grab- but I can't go out in public with it. It's all in really large bills, and someone might recognize my face."

"A teen with a roll of hundreds might garner some attention." Malik nodded sagely.

"So Jou's been helping me by buying whatever I need. He's a great guy, and I trust him." Ryou's shoulders fell backwards as he gave a long sigh. "It's tougher than I thought, living on the streets, but he's given me so much advice and support. I'd be dead now if it wasn't for him."

Malik and Marik seemed satisfied with this explanation, but Bakura wasn't so easily persuaded. The brooding street brawler turned his back while the other three continued to talk about Ryou's story.

'So a multi-millionaire is suddenly on the run from his murderous uncle, and only a former gang member can help him?' The scarlet-eyed teen frowned to himself, his stark disbelief warring with his hidden sympathies. 'That's a _very_ convenient narrative, almost like it was taken off the back cover of a late 90's action DVD.' He glanced over at the others, watching as they kept up their discussion. 'Maybe the twerp's lying, maybe he's not... either way, it seems things are about to get dodgier than normal around here...'


	4. Chapter 4

Bakura eventually re-joined the other teens as they carried on their discussion of Ryou's situation. The palest deviant listened as they all planned how to best protect the former-millionaire.

"We should start with changing your appearance." Marik stated rather sagely. "That might make it harder for your uncle to hunt you down."

"O-oh, ok." The youngest fugitive seemed confused by this advice. "But what would you even change-?"

Malik suddenly reached out and grabbed one of Ryou's long locks. "Well _first of all_ , we need to get rid of this long, white hair. It's a like a beacon screaming _'I'm Ryou Bakura! Right here! Look at me!_ '"

The other boy nervously pulled his hair out of the darker teen's grasp. "M-my hair is the last thing I truly have of my mother's... she and I shared the same recessive gene that causes nearly color-less hair... I really don't want to get rid of it."

"Well, I already cut it shorter- what if we dyed it black or something?"

"Dye it?!" Ryou seemed horrified by the mere prospect of staining his silvery strands. "No-no-no- my hair is so light; I'd never get it out!"

But the smaller blonde only waved a hand in casual dismissal. " _Relax_ , I know what stuff washes out and what doesn't." Malik blinked one violet eye at the nervous newcomer. "In fact, I've always dreamed of being a hairdresser."

"A gay hairdresser- how original." Bakura mockingly interjected.

This led to both the blondes flipping off their friend and scowling. "Piss off, you talentless scuzzball!"

But Ryou didn't seem nearly as confident, and he nervously twirled some of his longer strands. "I don't know..."

Bakura folded his arms and leaned towards the reluctant newbie.

"Look, your choices are dye or _die_. Which do _you_ think your mother would prefer you did?"

"..." The reluctant runaway bit his lower lip, clearly conflicted. "I... you're certain it'll wash out?"

"Promise." Malik added immediately. "I even know which brand would be best for lighter hair- I used it myself, one time."

Ryou wanted to ask Malik why he had once colored his hair, but then he realized that might be a bit too personal. So the kindly teen just nodded his head in acceptance.

"We'll pick up a bottle tomorrow- in the meantime, you need some new clothes. Those are starting to look like you lost a mud-wrestling match with a bear!"

Ryou was just about to agree, when a sudden thought struck him. "Wait- how would you even be paying for all of these things?"

"We employ the 'five-finger' discount method." Bakura replied dryly. "It's rather effective."

The disapproving look on the past-millionaire's face was evident.

"Look, we're not exactly rolling in charitable donations, here. Evidently the 'Street-hardened, Rebellious Teenagers Fund' isn't the type to attract big donors." Bakura sarcastically explained. "You can judge us all you like, but we're not going to stop doing whatever it takes to stay alive."

"Society has failed every one of us." Marik added a bit more eloquently than Ryou expected. "We don't stress over causing some multi-trillion dollar corporations a little grief. Guilt is for the guilty."

"..." The shortest teen didn't seem convinced, and sighed as everyone got to their feet. "Nonetheless... I have a small bit of cash hidden on me. _P_ _lease_ let me pay for this. I'd feel horrible if any of you ended up in jail for my sake."

The others exchanged a glance of incredulity before Malik shrugged in acceptance. "Sure, if you insist."

"I do, thank you." Ryou was just leaning over when he glanced up and saw three sets of eyes still trained on him. "Um, could you guys maybe turn around for one second? It's kind of a secret hiding place-"

Bakura lazily pointed to one of Ryou's shoes. "Oh, you mean the cash? It's in your left sock."

"Eh?!

The other white-haired teen smirked as he responded. "We've been doing this for a while, and trust me- we're good at it."

"Oh." The deflated youth carefully unraveled two worn twenty-dollar bills from between his sock and his ankle. "Um, I've never bought hair dye before- do you know how much-"

Marik's eyes lit up, and he made to grab both bills, but Bakura easily snatched one of the twenties and gave his brawny companion a rebuking glare. " _This_ should be more than enough. Malik can buy the dye- he's the only one who hasn't been banned from the nearest pharmacy."

Again, the palest teen had questions, but decided against voicing them. "Alright."

A few minutes passed, in which Malik got ready to 'head to the store'. He combed his hair, grabbed the twenty-dollar bill, and stuffed in an old wallet. "It looks less suspicious than just having the cash on you," he explained to the white-haired fledgling. The dark-skinned youth then headed out, leaving Ryou to sit and chat with the remaining two renegades.

"So... I take it you don't attend any local classes- so what do you guys do all day?"

Bakura snorted, as though it was obvious. "We scavenge. Malik sneaks uptown and hunts for discarded items in the dumpsters behind the high-end stores and customer homes.

Ryou seemed somewhat skeptical. "Is that sort of routine really worth it? Travelling that far, back-and-forth, every day?"

But then Marik interrupted with a pleased look on his face. "Oh yeah- you wouldn't _believe_ the stuff rich people just toss out! We've even made some decent money taking metal parts to the Domino scrap yard for cash. It's so weird, but evidently those people are just too lazy to do that themselves, I guess."

Bakura rolled his eyes before pointing a thumb at his loud cohort. "Marik often lurks around here, ensuring that no one steals our stuff and that anything dumped on the streets gets put to 'good use'. And _I'm_ a flawless master when it comes to pick-pocketing." The pale deviant finished rather arrogantly.

'Not really a point of pride for most people...' Ryou reflected to himself. "So, you guys pretty much 'up-cycle' stuff?"

Bakura's mood seemed to sour at the term. "You rich fools are so deluded- always making up 'cutesy' names for the most mundane crap. NO, we don't ' _up-cycle_ '- we do the dirty work that gets rid of their unsightly trash while keeping ourselves from starving."

"Oh." Slightly abashed, the newcomer squirmed in awkward silence, unsure of what else to say.

"Be nice, Bakura." Marik threw a kind look towards the youngest teen and added in a (fairly loud) whisper. "He has a deep and unhealthy resentment towards anyone who owns a penny more than himself!"

"Shut up, you muscle-headed numbskull!" Bakura snarled. "You're in the exact same situation, so don't act so high-and-mighty! You've seen those assholes; just tossing out perfectly good furniture and food just because 'they've changed their minds' or some crap! Stuff that isn't even worn-out! They're the most wasteful, miserable fools; abusing our society's resources just because they were born under better circumstances!"

"..." Ryou wasn't sure what to say in response to such an impassioned outburst.

But evidently Marik only took the rant as a cue to further rile up his non-house-mate. "Hmm... you know, Bakura, I'm still rather hungry. Would you mind if I ate one of those gigantic chips resting on your shoulders?"

The other deviant was not amused by the wordplay, and he flipped the brawnier teen off before storming towards the opposite end of the building. "I'm going skimming!"

'I guess he means he's going pick-pocketing... not the best hobby, but I can see why he's taken it up...' Ryou reflected sadly. He opened his mouth to ask Marik another question, but a big yawn came out instead.

The muscular blonde let out a low chuckle. "You seem pretty worn-out yourself!"

Ryou felt his mind growing drowsy. The thought of a nap was growing more and more appealing. "I think I'm going to go back to my 'bed', if that's alright. I'm still rather tired after yesterday..."

"No problem. If you need me, just yell- I usually stick within a block or two of here anyway. Malik should be back soon, but if I run into him first I'll ask him to be quiet."

Ryou held back another yawn as he thanked his newest comrade. "Thank you, Marik."

The other youth seemed surprised by the sincere words of gratitude, but he only smiled and nodded. "Sleep well, then."


End file.
